All-American
by Magali1
Summary: *Complete 9/18/2014* Set between "Underdogs" and "Tomorrow Blues." Lyla uncovers something Tim wants no part of, but she isn't have any of that. Semi-fluff short multi-chapter. Matt, Julie, Tyra, Coach, and Tami all appear. Lyla POV.
1. The Letter

**A/N: **Don't worry, _Chances Are _is not gone. I'm still working on it, I'm just putting together a final outline so it's easier for me to finish it, if anyone is still interested in reading it (the traffic went down a bit on it). In the meantime, as a break from the drama writing, I put together this short multi-chapter. I normally write future fics and have only delved into the storyline of the show a bit, but this is set in the third season after state but before the season finale. It also comes from the jersey Tim was wearing in 4.06 that the show never said anything about. So here is a no-drama, fun little fic. Enjoy :)

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**1. The Letter**

"Tim stop," she giggled, kicking her feet in the air as he blew raspberries on her neck. Lyla grabbed his face, pushing him from her and still giggling. He tried to kiss her, only it looked like a mountain-man, since he'd decided to grow a beard after the state game. It was supposed to be in 'mourning', whatever that meant. She'd noticed most of the guys had done it. She gave him one more kiss before she slid out from under him. Tim winced, reaching for his shoulder. "Are you okay?" she immediately asked. He still had to go to a physical therapist a couple of times a week to make sure he didn't damage anything.

To keep him prepared for college, she thought proudly, reaching for his shoulder, but he shrugged away, wincing again. "Fine," he mumbled, rotating it slowly. He closed his eyes, hissing again in pain.

Damnit Tim. "Where are your painkillers?" she asked, sitting up against the couch cushions, watching him walk into the kitchen. She studied him for a moment. This was going on five months. Wow, she thought, frowning slightly. I've been dating Tim for five months. Who ever would have thought? She pressed herself back into the cushions, frowning as something poked into her back.

"Ran out, but I'm getting more, don't worry about it," Tim said, cracking the cap on a bottle of beer.

She felt like saying he probably shouldn't mix painkillers and alcohol, but who was she kidding? Tim never listened to her and she had learned what battles to fight and which ones to just let go. She was winning the war. He'd gotten into college, he was eating better, and he was actually studying to keep his grades high enough so San Antonio State didn't kick him out. "What the hell is this?" she mumbled, reaching behind her to find what the hell it was scratching at her back. For all she knew it was a rat..

"What are you doing?" he asked, sighing dramatically. "Leave it alone."

"Tim it could be a living person in here for all I know."

"That was only Landry the one time," he said, referring to an incident where Landry had fallen asleep on the couch and somehow gotten stuck in the oversized cushions. She'd found him only when she had been in the process of making out with Tim in the kitchen, but the counters were so dirty she couldn't bear the idea of being naked near them, so they'd gone to the couch where she'd promptly sat on Landry.

She rolled her eyes, reaching back and tugging at something in the springs. It was a large letter. "What's this?" she asked.

His eyes widened. "Ah…nothing."

"Secret admirer?" she teased, unfolding the envelope. She stared at the return address, her eyes widening. "Oh my God Tim! This is from Under Armour!"

He sighed, plucking the envelope from her fingertips. "Yeah."

Of course he knew, she thought, rolling her eyes and immediately frustrated with him. I'm not dealing with your shit. She grabbed it back, jumping off the couch and using the coffee table as a vault to bypass him completely, holding the letter. She unfolded it completely, holding it aloft and reading quickly before she read out loud, laughing and jumping in place, her ponytail bouncing on top of her head. "Dear Mr. Riggins, we are pleased to information you of your selection to the Under Armour All American West team. Based upon your sustained high performance as a senior at Dillon High School and your high standing in the community, you have been nominated to the position of fullback. To accept this placement on our team, please have your high school football coach send the enclosed application packet to the address listed below. We look forward to seeing you December 27 in San Antonio, Texas for the first practice." There was more to it, but she tossed the letter aside, letting out a scream and dived at him.

He caught her, but lost balance and fell backwards into the La-Z-Boy. His arm wrapped around her waist as she shifted and looped her arms around his neck. This was a big deal, she thought, grinning at him. "It's not a big deal," he said, mumbling as he reached for the TV remote.

"No," she said, taking the remote and throwing it across the room to disappear into the void behind the couch. She jabbed her finger into his chest, completely firm with him. "You are going to do this Tim. Do you know how big this thing is? You've been selected as an All-American football player. They want you to play in the All-American Bowl. You're going to be on TV and you're going to play with the best high school football players in the country. This is a big thing."

What was a really big thing, she suddenly realized, was you needed to be nominated for this. Someone nominated him. Wrote up the package and said how great a player he was and how much he deserved it. Tim gave her a look, lifting his eyes up. He was not interested. "I already played with the best high school football players in the country," he said. He carefully slipped out from under her, calling over his shoulder. "And my shoulder's bad."

"Your shoulder will be fine in time for this. It's not even Christmas."

"We lost State a week ago, Garrity. I don't want to play anymore."

She wasn't going to get anywhere with him. She took the paperwork, walking to the front door where her tote back was. After stowing the papers away, she turned on her heel, calling out to him across the room. "When does Billy get back?"

"He and Mindy have wedding plans things or something," he said, rummaging in the cupboard. He sighed, removing a can of whipped cream from the fridge, spraying it into his mouth as he took a package of Oreos, squirting whipped cream on them before tossing them into his mouth. She wrinkled her nose. How he was so thin was beyond her, what with his diet and all. He pointed the whipped cream in her direction, smiling lecherously. "You want?"

"No thank you."

"I wasn't thinking for eating."

She rolled her eyes. "You poured chocolate on me last weekend and I'm still finding it in places, no whipped cream." She walked over to the counter, folding her arms on it and lifted her eyes to him. Hmmm, wait a second here. She dropped her voice, making it as husky as possible. "You sure you don't want to do that…football game?"

"Sure."

Okay. She leaned forward a little, her eyes going soft and doe-like. She instantly saw his chewing slow down, his gaze completely focused on her. You are so predictable. It was wrong of her to use this against him. Or rather, to get her what she wanted, but…well he was predictable and it would work. "You know Tim…it would make me really happy." She stuck her lower lip out, putting just the hint of a quiver in it. You're a raging bitch Lyla Garrity, she thought, holding her smile as he set down the bag of Oreos. He still didn't move towards her. She turned her voice to sickly sweet. "I thought you played so well in the State game and you know…you're going to be playing in college and I'm so proud of you, you have no idea and I just thought you know, one last time as a high school player…" She shook her head, whispering now. "I really, really think it would be pretty great. You can show everyone how great you are, but…you know I already think you're great."

He kept his gaze on her, completely focused. Intense, she thought, feeling her breath quicken. Shit. Her heart began to skip. She focused on her breathing. This was not as far as she wanted to go, she thought, her eyes widening when he moved slightly towards her. "Tim," she breathed.

He looked down at her, still not moving. Just as he opened his mouth, the front door burst open. "Hide me!" Tyra exclaimed, throwing a bunch of shopping bags on the floor. She flicked the lock and ran over to the curtains, jerking them shut. "Mindy's got me in some sort of fairy fucking costume for the maid-of-honor dress. I can't handle it!"

Damnit Tyra, she wanted to scream, turning her head to glare at the other girl. "Tyra, the fuck," Tim drawled. He looked back at her, smiling briefly. "We'll do this later Garrity, it's been fun, but…" He shrugged. "No."

No? Shit! I was so close! She turned around and shot Tyra another dark look. It had Tyra smiling, pleased with herself even though she didn't know why. "Did I interrupt something here?" she chuckled. She waved her finger between them. "You two look like clothes are about to come off."

"Not anymore," Lyla said. Now she'd close up shop. She took her bag. "Later Tim."

"I'm not doing it Garrity!"

"Whatever, Tim." She briefly thought about the risks of leaving a turned-on Tim in the same room with his ex-girlfriend, but rational thought crept in. It was just her little bit of jealousy. No big deal now. She walked out to her car, not turning when the front door slammed shut. "I'm not dealing with you right now Tim!"

He ran up to the passenger side of her car, leaning on the open window. "Someone had to nominate me or something?" he asked.

She briefly smiled. Good. He was thinking about it and not completely shutting it out. "Yes," she said, buckling her seatbelt. She shoved her sunglasses on, turning the key in the ignition. "Someone had to nominate you." I bet I know who it was too. I intend to find out.

Tim nodded. "Okay." He cocked his head slightly. "Unlock your window tonight. I'm getting back at you."

"My dad's going to be home."

"Then we'll be quiet."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll call you later."

"Love you."

She wiggled her fingers. "Love you too." She drove off, not going back to her father's house. She had to run this thing down. As much as her conscience told her to leave it alone, that Tim was the most stubborn person in the world and he would refuse to do something just because he didn't want to do it and if you pressed him, would dig his heels in deep even if he changed his mind. He'd just keep his heels in to spite the person who was forcing him to change his mind.

I got him as far as college, that's as far as I can take him, she thought. He had to do the rest. He had to do everything. As much as she knew this would be good for him, this would just…this would be wonderful for him, she had to run it down and give him all the facts. If Tim had all in front of him and he still didn't decide, well…she'd be upset but hell, she'd won the biggest battle.

I'm not in the business of turning people into things they're not, she thought, driving by the turn-off towards her father's apartment complex. She had a very strong suspicion on who nominated Tim and she was going to find him and have a chat. Maybe they could convince Tim to do it.


	2. The Coach

**2. The Coach**

It took a few minutes to get from the Riggins house across town to the high school where Lyla pulled her car into the driveway behind Coach Taylor's Ford Explorer. She had never really interacted with him outside of pleasantries, as she had no real need, but now she had to talk with him.

She grabbed her tote, climbing out of the car and slowly approached the house. The front door opened, Tami leaving it and shouting into the house, Gracie on her hip. "I'll be back in an hour, we're getting Gracie Belle her new food, aren't we Gracie, dear? Yeah, because you puked up all your food on Mommy this morning, didn't you?" She closed the door, turning and exclaiming in surprise. "Lyla Garrity! Sweetheart, did I know you were coming?"

"Not unless you can read the future," she teased, smiling politely at Mrs. Taylor. She reached her fingers to Gracie, who smiled, gumming on a set of plastic rings. "Hello Gracie Belle." She smiled wider, her eyes bright. "Mrs. Taylor she's beautiful."

"Oh that's so sweet, thank you." Tami's voice suddenly evened out. "You're not here to see me about one of these, are you?" Her eyebrow arched over the top of her aviator sunglasses. "Because honey that's a whole lot of Riggins mess I cannot get into."

Lyla laughed. "Oh God, no." She shuddered at the thought of having a baby right now. Good Lord. Her life had enough problems. She smiled again, softer this time. "I'm actually here to talk to Coach Taylor, is he around?"

"Of course he is, he's in the back fixing the mower." Tami opened the door back up. "Go on in." She cocked her head, seemingly surprised but not really showing it. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

She shook her head. "No, it's about Tim."

"Ah, I see."

"Thank you Mrs. Taylor."

Tami called out to her as she stepped up into the house. "You know Tim's grades have improved considerably since he started seeing you."

What was she supposed to say to that? She cleared her throat, smiling awkwardly. "Um, well…you know he is pretty competitive." That was a load of bull. Tim wasn't competitive in anything except on the football field and even then he could get lazy. You had to light the fire under him yourself.

"I'm sure," Tami chuckled, waving. "See you later sweetheart."

Lyla closed the door behind her to keep the heat in the house. She shivered a little. It was December in West Texas. More frosty than anything else, but even then she felt cold. She walked through the house. She'd only been here a couple of times. Mostly for team function stuff. She walked to the patio door, pulling it open and stepping outside, seeing Coach Taylor kneeling over a lawn mower with a box of tools beside him. "Coach?"

"Damnit!" he exclaimed, dropping something in surprise as his name. He turned around, looking ready to let loose, but instantly quieted. "Lyla Garrity, what are you doing here?"

She smiled. "Um, do you have a second?" She reached into her tote bag, removing the application. She pulled it out and spoke, turning it towards him as Eric stood up, walking over to take the paperwork. "Tim got this in the mail last week. I found it earlier stuffed in the couch cushions. He wants no part of it, but I wanted to just see if you knew anything about it."

Eric took the papers, flicking through them quickly. Lyla watched his face carefully. He didn't show any signs of recognizing it. Then she saw it when he looked back at the acceptance letter, his lip twitching up. You did do it, she thought, her smile pulling broadly over her teeth. I knew it. "So they accepted him," he said softly. He shook his head, chuckling. "Well how about that?"

"He's more than deserving," she said. She felt the need to defend him for some reason. She ran her tongue over her teeth. "He still needs your final acceptance. To sign the packet in the back. Verifying all his credentials and everything."

He looked up at her again. He nodded, taking the portion for the coach and returned the rest to her. "You said you found it in the couch cushions?" Eric sighed. "That seems about right."

I've found a lot of these letters stuffed away. "I found an interest letter from UT in the knife drawer," she said. She dropped her weight back on her left leg, tapping her right foot as she ticked off on her fingers. "An interest letter from Ohio State in the bathroom. One from TMU in the fridge of all places. He had three from Florida stuffed in his gym bag, one from Oklahoma State in his backpack, and another from Auburn in his math book." She smirked at Coach. It just made her sad, but she didn't fight it. "And all he managed to get, after all that, was San Antonio State."

It seemed just as sad to Coach. "I had phone calls," he said quietly. He cleared his throat, firm. "I'm not telling you this Lyla for you to go right back to Tim, understand?" She nodded. "I'm saying I received phone calls after several letters went unanswered. I tried. I called them back, I talked him up, but when Ohio State found out about the running off to Mexico, they balked. They had better candidates who actually wanted to play. TMU heard about the drinking and was done. It went like that for a few weeks. Even after a lot of them got the video and saw how much he wanted it, it was too late. They players who actually wanted to play for them and called them back that day. For every Tim Riggins who is talented and more than deserving, there is a Smash Williams who does everything in their power, even after the offers dry up, to get there." He sighed again, holding up the All-American packet. "This was my way of making sure he at least got on a stage for someone to notie. And not San Antonio State, although I am proud of him for that."

Yeah, he only did that after everyone and their mother about drop-kicked him into it. She cleared her throat. The one thing was he wanted it. "He wanted that one," she murmured. She lifted her eyes again, smiling tight. "He wouldn't have gone after the recruiter if he didn't want that one." Part of it was for me. She knew that. She didn't feel sorry for it.

Eric reached for her shoulder, leading her into the house. "I'm glad he's got you there for him Lyla. He needs someone who doesn't take his crap."

"Well thank you sir."

"What'd he do when you confronted him on this?" Eric reached into the fridge and removed a pitcher of water, pouring himself a glass. He held it up, silently asking if she wanted.

She shook her head. "No thank you, I'm going to be going now. I wanted you to have the packet and just make sure it was you." She thought about his question. How did Tim react? "Well you can imagine how he reacted."

"Pretended it didn't exist?"

"Said he doesn't want to play football anymore, he already played." She didn't like hearing that. It didn't bode well for San Antonio State. Maybe he wasn't that interested in it after all. She tossed her hair out of her eyes. "He was…curious at the idea of someone having to nominate him." That would be the big thing.

Coach looked down at the glass, slightly sad. "Isn't that unfortunate."

It was unfortunate. It was sad. The idea that someone actually would put him forward for an honor was foreign to Tim. She hoped it would be the thing that would get him through this. "I want him to do this for himself, you can send that in behind his back and I can come to you behind his back. He'll be pissed off, but I really think this is going to be good for him." She knew it wasn't her business. She really didn't care.

Who else was going to look out for Tim if not for her? Well, Coach, she thought, smiling at him. He grinned back at her. "Thank you for this Lyla. I'll fill it out and send it in, but I will be informing Tim of it."

I know. She took her tote bag from the barstool next to the breakfast counter. She stepped away, laughing as he led her to the door. "And I'll prepare for the fireworks."


	3. The Convincing

**3. The Convincing**

After her visit to Coach Taylor, knowing full well Tim would probably know what she'd done by the end of the day, she stopped at the grocery store to pick up some food for dinner at her dad's that night. She was sick of the meat and potatoes diet Buddy felt was healthy. She'd smuggle him a turkey burger and see if he could tell the difference.

She threw a few peppers into her basket, reaching over for an eggplant, at the same time she saw Julie Taylor reaching for one. "Hi Julie," she said, smiling at her. She hadn't spoken to her in awhile. Not really since that night back in November, spent on the floor of Julie's room while Buddy hung out in the Dillon Police Department holding pen.

"Hey Lyla," Julie said, smiling briefly. She set the eggplant in her basket. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good."

"I'm cooking dinner for Matt. I think if I put the eggplant in enough breading he may eat it. I'll tell him it's…potato or something."

She smiled. "I tried to get Tim to eat tofu once."

"How'd that go?"

"I said it was cheese," she said, laughing. Julie laughed with her. She shrugged. "I'm not a vegetarian, but at least I try to eat healthy. He was putting whipped cream on Oreos earlier."

"That sounds…like a cavity."

Well Tim had yet to have a filling, but he also was obsessive about his teeth. He never forgot to floss, brush, and mouthwash. She shifted her basket on her other elbow. "I'm hoping I can have dinner with him before he…" she trailed off, seeing Tim walk into the grocery store. He looked furious. There was just a look he got. "Uh…" she moved sideways, hiding around the side of the produce bin. She glanced over again. He'd disappeared behind the registers. "Um…sorry, I just…"

Julie followed her gaze, frowning. "Why does Tim look ready to kill?"

"Well it's a long story…" she moved around another bin, resting her basket on a box and rising on her toes to try to follow him as he made his way towards the aisles, peeking down each one. Shit. She hated small-town life sometimes. All it would take was a few questions from Tim to the right people and they'd tell him she was in the grocery store.

A phone buzzed between them. Julie glanced at hers. "Um, Matt's calling, hang on…" she lifting it to her ear. "Hey Matt." She lifted her eyes, smiling a little. "Um, I haven't seen her, why….okay…I'll be out in a second. Bye." She hung up. "Yeah, Tim's looking for you."

Shit! "Crap," she mumbled, grabbing the basket and edging around the produce bins again. If he was making his way along the backside of the store, she could dodge in and out and use the endcaps to block her as he looked down. She was not prepared for this Tim Riggins argument. He'd get pissed at her, let her know, and then completely ignore her for a few days as he brooded. He'd do his best Heathcliff impersonation. He'd gotten good at it too.

Julie cleared her throat. "What'd you do to get Tim this mad? I didn't think anything made him mad."

"Um, I may have had your dad put in paperwork for him to go play in the All-American game."

"Oh my God." Julie laughed. "No wonder he's mad at you. Let me call Matt. Does Tim have the phone you gave him?"

"Battery's been dead since his birthday when I got him the damn phone."

"So two months then."

Yeah, two months. She skidded along the edge of the registers, putting her basket in a cart full of 'put-backs.' She'd come back when Tim wasn't chasing her down. She slipped out the front door with Julie, stopping in her tracks when she turned to the parking lot. Tim was standing right in front of her, his hands on his hips. "Garrity," he greeted her, his tone even.

Julie's eyes widened. "Hey Tim."

"Jules."

"What's going on? Lyla and I were going to get lunch. You want to come?" Julie twirled her hair around her finger, shrugging. "We're going to that salad place. You might not like it."

"That's funny because Seven said you were getting groceries before you guys went to lunch."

Thanks Julie, but I've got the advanced degree in Tim Riggins Emotional Dealing. She sighed. "I'll see you later Julie. Thank you." She waited for Julie to shrug, leaving them. She glared at Tim. "I am not fighting with you in public."

"I told you I didn't want you going to Coach."

"You must not have heard me. I will not fight with you in public." She walked to her car, her bag banging against her hip. She shifted the strap on her shoulder, reaching in for her car keys. The boot heels of both her and Tim clicked in tandem on the pavement. "Tim, go away. Cool off."

He didn't listen. He grabbed the door when she pulled it open, holding onto it and leaning on the top of the car with his forearm, peering into the car after her. His eyes were shielded by his sunglasses. He was scowling. "I told you I didn't want it," he said softly.

And she almost felt bad. Just for a moment, until she remembered Tim didn't want to do anything. His motivation for…for anything was almost nonexistent. She shook her head. "I'm sorry Tim. I really am, for going behind your back, but this is a good thing and if Coach Taylor thinks it is and I think it is, don't you think it is? What more do you need?"

"I don't want this."

You almost don't know what you want. I'm not acting like I know what's best for you. I don't. She sighed, climbing out of the car and closing the door. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the door, staring at him. "Tim, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry….I should have…I wanted to make sure." She sighed, glancing away. I don't want this conversation in the parking lot of the Shop-N-Save. She tossed her hair from her eyes, laughing. The wind was picking up. It was getting freezing. "Do you want to have this inside? Where it's warmer?"

He sighed. "Not right now."

"Okay. Well I'm going home. You can come with me and find out why I did this. Or not. Your choice Tim." She opened the door and climbed inside, starting the car. She glanced sideways at him. Drop the dangle. "Coach did it, just so you know. He put in the application." She drove off, glancing in her rearview mirror as he stood in her empty parking space, watching her drive away.

She reached for the radio, turning it up to drown away her thoughts. It was wrong of me to surprise him like that, she thought. She should have headed it off right at the pass. They would have to fight this out later then. A few minutes later, she parked next to her dad's Suburban, going upstairs and into the condo. "Hey sweetie," he called from his armchair, watching something on TV.

"Hey Daddy." She went into her room, still in a 'feeling him out' period. Just because she was back living here didn't mean they were gabbing it up at dinner every night and watching the same shows on TV. It meant they were civil with each other as she worked through what remaining anger she had, and probably always would have, about her lack of college fund.

The door closed and she set her bag on her bed, going to her laptop and checking email. She started some winter break homework and went online to look for something to get her dad for Christmas. It was only four days away. She still had to find something, even if she needed to spend a ton on express shipping to get it here in time. "Lyla," Buddy called through the closed door.

She sighed. What? "Yeah?" she called.

"You have a visitor." The tone of his voice told her who that visitor was.

She stood up, closing the computer and opened the bedroom door, Tim standing beside her father. "Thanks Mr. Garrity," he said, stepping into the room.

"Door open," Buddy warned. Lyla closed it in his face. "Door unlocked!" he shouted. She flicked the lock. He waited a second and shouted. "I am right outside this door! No funny business of any kind!"

Whatever Daddy, she thought, turning to Tim. "There won't be funny business," she said, walking around him and sat down on the bed. She crossed her arms and ankles, staring at him. "What?"

Tim took her desk chair, spinning it around and sat backwards, shrugging off his coat. He wore a long-sleeve black shirt underneath a gray Panther t-shirt. He rolled the sleeves to his elbows like they were getting work done. He folded his arms around the top of the desk chair, looking down at the floor. He sighed, lifting his eyes. "That application thing…Coach Taylor had to put me in?"

Thank God you want to talk about this like a normal person. "Yeah," she said. She leaned forward, drawing her knees up. She shrugged. "Someone had to put in a nomination form. With all your football statistics, but it's more than that. Tim an All-American football player…tennis player…basketball, whatever, they're the best of the best, not just in their sport but off the field, court, whatever." She hoped she could express the magnitude of this to him. She smiled, her eyes crinkling. I wish you could see how we all see it. "Tim he had to talk to your character and while you may…" she trailed off, choosing her words carefully so she could honor her pledge to Coach Taylor. "While you may have some blots on your record for character, it's more than your drinking and running off. You're not just that and he knows it. He means what he says, you know that. He said how amazing you were."

"Not amazing," he mumbled. He got out of the chair, crawling onto the bed and stretched out on his stomach, propping his head on his hands. He shrugged, reaching to fiddle with the edge of her sweatshirt. "I'm not amazing. There's better players."

"Not the way you are." He had a different style. He wasn't average. He was beyond. She smiled. "When you're sober you play well."

He smirked. He closed his eyes, whispering. "Jay was All-American." The announcement came out, it had been decided, after his accident. He looked up at her, frowning. "He didn't get to play."

Shit. That's where this came from. She crawled so she was on her stomach beside him, her arms going over his shoulders so she was half lying on him. She rested her chin in his shoulder, turning her face to him. "You can call him. I think he'd come see you play. He'd want it."

"I don't know."

She kissed his cheek. "Think about it. Practice in San Antonio is in a week." She nuzzled behind his ear, whispering. "You can skip school and I'll be there. We can check out San Antonio State. Maybe find a place where we can live."

He turned onto his back, pulling her with him so she was stretched over his chest. She grinned, propping her elbows on his chest. "You want to live with me? After you abandoned me to Billy?"

"You know I had to leave," she said. She kissed him lightly. "And yes. I did like waking up with you."

"It was pretty nice."

"Not bad at all."

"It was okay." She smiled. She pursed her lips for a moment before shrugging. What the hell? "You sure about this? You really need to want this for you."

Tim looked up at the ceiling. He deflated a bit. He shook his head slightly. "Coach thought I was good enough?"

She rubbed it in a bit. "Tim, NFL players are All-Americans. Heisman winners are All-Americans…I'm not saying you are either of those two things and I don't expect you to be…I just want you to realize that you're worth this, you know?" She moved closer to him, leaning down and whispering, her eyes focused his. Please know. I don't know what all I have to say and do to get you to understand it. "I love you. Coach loves you…you're going to college. First Riggins." She laughed. "Probably the last."

He smiled. "Yeah…" he trailed off. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling again. He rested his hand in the small of her back. She set her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to speak. He just breathed deeply a few times before he moved his head a little on her ruffled pillows, briefing smiling in her direction, even if he was still staring off into space. "I get to be on TV?"

"Yeah."

"That's cool…can Billy come?"

"I think anyone you want can come watch," she said. She smiled up at him, grinning. "You'll play with other players…not as good as Matt and Smash and everyone else, but…" she trailed off, shrugging again. "One day some of the guys you play with are going to be in the NFL. You can tell your kids you played football with them."

He shook his head, murmuring. "No…I'll tell them I played with Jay."

That's the most important thing. She rose up, kissing him. She settled against him again. "I just want you happy. I'm sorry I didn't do it…well. I just…Coach did it, Tim. He nominated you and he is following through. I think its only fair you live up to what he thinks you are and…Jason will be proud of you. We all will be proud."

The fine line was not laying it on so much he freaked out at the expectations. She remembered that disastrous dinner with the McCoys and her horrible father. Tim never told her what Buddy had said to him, but she'd confronted Buddy on it the next day, after thinking it through that evening, when she'd gone to apologize to Tim for their fight. Buddy had hemmed and hawed and she knew he'd been lying through his teeth that he said nothing. He just wanted them apart.

She looked at the closed door. "Daddy go away!" she shouted. Tim lifted his head a little.

There was a light scuffle and muttered 'ow.' She rolled her eyes, climbing out of the bed and walked to the door, opening it up and seeing Buddy hurrying to his chair. She rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorframe. "Tim is going to stay for dinner. We're going to study."

"That better not be code."

She closed and locked the door. Tim grinned, reclining back against her pillows. "He hates me," he said, but he was at least smiling about it.

"He doesn't hate you. He just doesn't want me with you. There's a difference."

"Same difference."

She crawled onto the bed, draping her arms around his neck, murmuring. "You know we should tell him you're going to be an All-American." She wiggled her eyebrows, jumping up when Tim lunged for her, shouting that it wasn't a good idea. She flung open the door, leaning into the kitchen. "Hey Daddy?"

"Yes?" He lowered the phone, holding the pizza delivery menu. "What?"

"Tim hates peppers."

"Extra peppers there Jimmy." He looked ver at her. "yeah?"

She grinned. "Tim is going to play in the All-American Bowl. The Under Armour All American Bowl. Coach Taylor nominated him and he was accepted. It's going to be on ESPN." She waited a beat. "And I'm going with him." She closed the door, waiting a moment.

"What'd he say?" Tim said. He was rummaging in her drawers. Panty raid, she figured.

"Hang on." Lyla pressed her ear to the door, grinning when she heard Buddy's response.

"Cancel the peppers Jimmy."

Well that was all she figured she'd get out of Buddy for now. She turned to Tim, waving her hand at Tim, who had paused. "Carry on."


	4. The Jersey

**4. The Jersey**

"Well Merry Christmas to you Timmy, this is a piece of shit gift." Billy threw down a golf club wrapped haphazardly in newspaper. He scowled at his brother. "It's my own damn golf club! The least you could have done was buff the scuffs off of it after you used it to hit rocks or something…what the hell did you do to this? This was my best driver."

Tim barely glanced up from the chair, where she was wrapped around him. He was busy placing bows along various pieces of her anatomy. I've had way too much to drink, she thought, giggling as he kissed at her neck, a bow going onto her shoulder. He rolled his eyes at Billy. "No better than your Christmas gift."

"I gave you fifty bucks to buy your own gift."

Speaking of gifts. "Thank you for my necklace," she drawled, kissing him and gently touching the silver bird charm he'd gotten her to hang on her necklace with her cross. It was a dove. She loved it and she'd been surprised to open the small box from him to find it. It kind of upset her she'd hadn't had faith in him to get her something so meaningful and not a cup of coffee like he had for her birthday a couple years ago.

He kissed her back. "You're welcome."

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Thank you for my gift."

Mindy gagged, stuffing wrapping paper into a bag. "You're both disgusting."

"They really are," Tyra said from the kitchen, where she was eating cookies. She scowled. "Mindy how long do we have to stay? Mom's at home all alone on Christmas."

"She's not alone." Mindy made another face, picking up her bottle of beer. "She's with Buddy."

"Ew," everyone all said at the same time. Tim made a face and Lyla gagged in unison with the Collette girls. She turned her head at the sound of someone at the front door. Or she assumed they would be shortly, since she heard a car door slam. Maybe it was Buddy and Angela. She promised her dad after she and Tim exchanged presents they'd go back and have Christmas dinner with him. Which she'd ended up cooking most of that morning before driving over to the Riggins house.

She stood up, walking over to the front door as Tim got up to get another beer and steal a cookie Tyra was about to eat. "Hello Coach," she said, pulling open the door just in time for him to lift his knuckles to knock. She stepped aside, ushering him in. "It's freezing, come inside. What are you doing here?"

Tim sat up, but didn't get up completely. "Coach?" he called, surprised.

"Coach Taylor, have a seat, let me get you a beer!" Billy exclaimed, knocking Mindy off his lap and running to the fridge.

Eric waved his hand at Billy. "I don't want a beer Billy, but thank you, I'm here to give Tim something." He reached into a paper shopping bag, removing a white box. He smiled briefly, handing it to him. "This came to the fieldhouse yesterday. Thought you might need it for your practice in a couple days." He patted Tim's shoulder. "Merry Christmas Tim. I'll see you in San Antonio."

I wonder what it is, she thought, letting Coach out. She closed the door behind him, following Tim into his room. "Keep it down in there, Billy and I are going to watch Rudolph!" Mindy shouted.

Why does everyone assume we're just going to jump each other, Lyla thought, closing the door. She walked across the mess on the floor, sitting beside Tim on the edge of the bed. He had the box on his knees, looking at it. "Open it," she said.

"What is it?"

"Well open it and find out."

Tim glanced sideways. "Coach doesn't give me presents." He carefully reached underneath he top of the box, lifting the lid and pushed aside paper, looking down at what it was. Lyla didn't think it came packaged this way. She suspected Tami may have repurposed some things to make it more presentable.

Oh Tim, she thought, leaning over his shoulder and peering down at it. "Wow," she whispered.

He reached in and pulled out the jersey, the box falling to the debris on the floor. It fell over his knees in soft folds, the material shiny and the letters and numbers sewn in with tiny stitches. He touched the numbers on the bag. '33.' They were letting him keep his high school number. "Wow," he said, turning it over to see the small letters above the white numbers, stark against the black background with red piping. 'All-America.'

There was a patch in the corner, under the left shoulder, with the Under Armour All-America Bowl logo. It was an official regulation jersey, she thought. If it wasn't real to him before, it was real to him now. She squeezed his shoulders, still hovering behind him on the bed. "Tim it's real," she said. She swallowed hard. There truly was no turning back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing. I love you, she thought, kissing his cheek and resting her head against his. He reached his hand up from the jersey, squeezing her wrist. "Thanks," he mumbled.

I didn't do anything. She kissed his temple, patting his shoulder and climbing around to sit next to him, her foot underneath her. "I can't believe how soon this all is. We're going to drive out tomorrow night, right?"

He nodded. San Antonio was only a couple hours away, but it was a boring drive on a two-lane road with nothing but cows and oil fields to see. All the players had to stay in the same hotel, with roommates as they practiced for a week before the game at the start of the year. She was going to hang out with him, in her own room and then everyone else would come for the game. She'd sent the information to everyone she could think of. Coach and Tami, Tyra, her dad, Jason, and the entire team.

Billy was excited about it, but she kept seeing something reserved in him. He almost seemed jealous. She wasn't sure what to make of that but she was keeping her eye on him so he wouldn't convince Tim to back out because of some reason or another. "I'll hang this up," she said, taking the jersey from him.

Tim lay back on the bed, saying nothing. She set the hanger with the jersey on it, hanging it on some sort of weight-lifting apparatus. She smoothed her hands over her red sweater. She'd gone a bit overboard getting dressed up. It was their first Christmas and her first Christmas without her mom and her siblings. She'd paired it with a dark brown leather skirt and her boots. She walked over, leaning against him and kneeling slightly on the bed. He sat up, running his thumb over the skirt's hem, draped over her knee. What's wrong, she wondered, but kept her mouth shut.

He sighed. "I don't know about this."

Aw damnit. "Tim," she murmured.

Tim sighed, frowning briefly. He looked at the jersey. "I guess I can't back out though, huh?"

"No," she said. She was sure he probably could, but she wouldn't let him. She quirked her lip. "You are not backing out of this. I'll kill you if you do it." She sighed, falling onto her side. He fell beside her, propping his head on his hand. "Did you talk to Jason?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He dragged his finger back over her skirt. He looked away. "He can't fly out for it…he'll watch it on TV…something about work."

What? Work? She frowned. "Okay."

"Coach is coming, right?"

"He said he would. I don't think he'd miss it for the world." She sat up. "The Mayor is putting it in the paper. Dillon's third All-American in three years. Jason, Smash, and you." She grinned, teasing. "The Unholy Trinity."

It didn't make him smile. He was still looking down at his hands, pulling at his fingers. "The paper?" He nodded, climbing off the bed, going to his dresser. "Yeah…how about that? The paper."

"It's a big deal. You're going to college. You're going to be on TV. You're Tim Riggins." She stood on her knees on the bed, her hands going to his arms when he came back to her. She grinned, her wrists locking together at the base of his neck. "Are you going to play tomorrow with Matt before you go?" Matt had offered to help him with some drills, throwing the ball and all. Billy had volunteered, but Tim had accepted Matt's help first. She'd also convinced him it was probably better to have the QB do it than Tim.

He nodded. "Yeah. You know who I saw yesterday who wanted to come?"

"Who?"

"Joe McCoy."

She arched her brow. "That stuffed shirt? I hate him."

"I know you do," he said, kissing her briefly. He smiled a bit. "I don't hate his kid. It sucks having a dad who…pushes you." He looked away. Is that what some of this hesitancy is about, she wondered, reaching for his chin, drawing him up to face her. He sighed, meeting her gaze. "It's not my dad, Garrity. I'm not worried about him."

"Where is he now?" she whispered.

Tim looked down again. He was holding something in his fist, which was resting on her hip. He looked up again, shrugging. "San Antonio," he whispered. He closed his eyes, laughing, but it was kind of like a sob. "I don't know if he's still there. That was six months ago."

I'll keep him from you. She kissed him. "I'll handle him."

"I'm sure you can."

"And I'll get rid of Joe McCoy and his bratty son if they show up too." She couldn't believe the immaturity on JD during the state game. He'd lost it for them. She partly blamed her dad for that too. Forcing Coach to start the new kid than stable Saracen. She looked at his hand. "What's that?"

"Oh, this." He held it up, smiling. "Your other Christmas present."

"Tim Riggins doesn't get me presents for the entire time he's known me, but in the span of an hour I get two pieces of jewelry," she giggled, unwrapping the small ring box. She didn't know what to expect from him. For all she knew he was proposing to her. And she was only partly kidding. She pushed open the black box, looking down at the ring nestled in velvet. "Oh…"

She fell back on her heels, Tim sitting beside her. He took the ring from the velvet. "I want you to have it," he said, holding it up. He shrugged. "I don't wear this. I don't ever plan on wearing it."

Lyla smiled. "Not even at reunions?" She couldn't imagine her father without his state ring. It had become part of him. She'd seen him twisting it while he was thinking, like it was full of power or something.

He shook his head, sticking it onto her thumb. "Naw, you know that's not me."

She looked at the jersey. Would he one day feel the same about that bit of his football life? She glanced at him. "What about the jersey? Will you ever wear it again?"

He gave her a twisted look, laughing. "Why wouldn't I? That's a jersey. I can actually wear it. That? The ring? No." He took it and stuck it on his left ring finger, making a face and stuck his tongue out. "I look a tool. You on the other hand…" He put it back on her thumb, holding it up and kissing it, smiling. "Look cute."

"Tell you what. Since this is pretty gaudy, even for me…" She slipped off her necklace and stuck the ring on the chain between her cross and her dove charm, placing it back around her neck. She patted where the ring fell right in the center of her chest beneath the dip in her throat. "I'll keep it." She ran her tongue over her throat. "Don't you want to give it to your son one day?" She squeezed his hands, whispering, still looking straight at him. "Or daughter?"

He waited a moment, before shrugging, whispering. "You can give it to them." He smiled a little, reaching to wrap his arms around her. "Come on. Let's go eat the rest of Tyra's cookies." He let go, gave one last look, complete with a happy smile at the jersey, and left the room.

Lyla remained on her heels. She reached to twist at the ring on her chain, looking at the jersey. It was impressive. She smiled. Only a few days away. This was going to be…well she was really looking forward to it. Probably more than the State game, when she thought long enough about it. She climbed off the bed, walking to the jersey. Her fingers drifted across the letters on the back. Riggins.

"You did it," she murmured. She grinned, tears pricking her eyes. You did it. She picked up her phone from the nightstand, looking at the jersey and then punched one of her speed-dial numbers. It rang a few times and she got his message. "Hey Jason, Merry Christmas, it's Lyla. I hear you can't come to the All-American game…I'm sorry about that, but Tim is really freaking out about it and he's really excited about it. I don't know why you can't come, but I'll be sending a ticket to you so you can come. Bring Erin and the baby too if you want. This is your best friend and he would never ask you, but he wants you to come. He came to New York for you. Please come for him. Thank you. Merry Christmas." She hung up, tossing her phone into her bag, which she dropped beside the bed, walking out into the kitchen to stop Tyra from eating Tim's hand, which was currently holding the last snowman cookie.


	5. The Practice

**5. The Practice**

"Come on Tim!"

Catch the ball, she felt like yelling, but she didn't, dropping her hands from her mouth to drape over her knees. She shook her head. Tim was not focusing. They were driving to San Antonio that night and he wasn't focusing with Matt. If he was this uncomfortable with Matt, who had been passing the ball to him for the last six months in practice and games, what was he going to be like with a total stranger?

She'd checked the information she'd gotten from Coach on the other players. The quarterback was ranked as All-Oklahoma and had a full ride to Stanford. He'd be a first-round pick, no question about it once his college career was over. Tim wasn't going to like him on sight, even if he had to play with him for one game one time.

I still haven't heard from Jason, she thought, impulsively checking her phone for a message she may have missed. Not likely, as she'd been carrying her phone everywhere. "Straighten up," she mumbled, seeing Tim lean too far in and stumble as he took off with the ball.

Coach seemed to have the same advice. "Straighten up," he ordered. "You're too crouched."

"I can't run on frozen turf," Tim shouted at them. He shook his hair out of his eyes, getting into position again. Matt shouted the audible and then threw the ball at Tim, as a few other guys from the team played defense, running straight towards him. He pushed both out of the way and took off to the endzone, tossing the ball in the air and turned, walking back.

She glanced at Coach, seeing his lips pursed. He was not happy with what he was seeing. She climbed off the bleachers, walking towards him. "Let me," she said, nodding to him. She pushed her sunglasses up, taking the ball from Matt. "I want to do something."

Matt shook his head, as Tim snapped at one of the defense guys for not pushing hard enough. "You want to fight him on this? This is the worst I've seen. Is he sober right now?"

"He had one beer." They both knew Tim played incredibly well drunk. When he was in good shape he was absolutely unstoppable. He should be fine right now. She took the ball, tossing it in the air and dropped her sunglasses to her nose. "Get into position," she ordered.

Tim stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"Get into position."

He shrugged, his hands going back to his hips. "And what position would that be?" She ran her tongue over her teeth, glancing at Coach and then fired off a complicated running pass play. She arched an eyebrow at him, waiting. He narrowed his eyes. "You even know what you just said?"

"Do you know what I just said?"

Tim waited a beat and then moved to the position. He leaned forward, glancing at her. She waited and then shouted the audible, running towards him and passed the ball. He grabbed it, moving towards the defense, dodging out of the way of a block and then took off, laughing. "Ha!" he shouted, holding the ball aloft.

Until she tackled him, grabbing him around the waist and knocking him down before he reached the goal line. "Ha!" she shouted back, jumping to her feet. "I win!"

"What the hell!?" he exclaimed.

Coach chuckled and she saw Matt hiding his smile behind his hand. "I think she got you Riggins," Coach yelled. "I should bring her on next year for East Dillon as cornerback."

I'd be a good cornerback, she thought, grinning at him, her hands to her hips again. "Unexpected, Tim. You're almost too prepared. You're too lazy with this. You can't even play with Matt! How are you supposed to play with the absolute best in the country?" she demanded.

"Matt is the best!" Tim yelled.

Matt wandered off, taking the ball. "I'm really not Tim, but thanks." He waited a moment, shrugging. "You played fine with JD. I don't get the problem."

"JD was a ball hog. I'd be wide open and that kid would forget I even was there."

"Well the quarterback you'll be playing with isn't a ball hog, he's notorious for how well he works with running backs because if there is one thing wrong on him, he isn't the best passer, he overthrows, but that's still not saying much," Lyla rattled off. She went through the stats, chasing Tim back to Coach. Don't go back to your security blanket, she wanted to shout at him. Coach was looking like he had spikes on his blanket edges, giving Tim his disapproving look.

"She's not playing with us," he said to Coach.

Coach shrugged. "She knocked you down."

"At least he caught the ball this time," Matt said.

Coach nodded. "That is true," he said.

See, she felt like snapping at Tim. She flicked the ball from Matt straight at Tim. "I've got stuff to do. Pick me up later." She walked away, glancing over her shoulder at the sound of feet on the frozen astroturf. She turned completely when she realized it was Matt. "I'm going to keep knocking him down," she warned. In case he wanted her to stay. It was a nice stress reliever.

He smiled. "Believe me, I'm all for that, but, uh…I mean…" he sighed, rolling his eyes slightly, sheepish. Typical Matt. Just spit it out, she thought, waiting. He sighed again. "Look…he barely warmed up to me after Jason got…got hurt. I mean…he's fine, he plays football, but for some reason he just…" he sighed for a third time in three seconds. He glanced up at her, muttering. "He finally got into the running back gig and gave up fullback. Now he's back at fullback for this. On TV. New offense in a week…new players…good players…you know him."

I do know him. Change and Tim…two things which did not go well together. Repelled each other, most of the time. She nodded. "Thank you Matt."

"He'll get there. We'll keep at him." He chuckled. "You should stay and knock him down a few more times."

I'll knock him down later. She smiled. "You're a good QB Matt."

"I'm not an All-American," he said. He laughed, looking at Tim, who was listening to something Coach was saying, but was looking away, barely paying attention. He glanced her way again. "And that's the problem. He is."

And no one else around him is, she got it. I have to get Jason to give the blessing, she thought, saying goodbye to Matt and removed her phone again. This was about Jason. She hit his number, reaching to lift it up, but she stopped, seeing Billy sitting in his car, watching what was going on out on the field. "Billy?"

He glanced at her. "Oh," he said, shifting in the driver's seat. He sighed. "You caught me."

"Yeah…what are you doing?" She waited for him to climb out, closing the door and hitching at his jeans. How long had he been there? She stepped back slightly, still frowning. "You should go out there." Or not. Billy might distract him.

Billy seemed to have the same thought. "Naw…just…he wouldn't want me there." He glanced at her. "You did this, didn't you? Got him all into this."

I didn't do anything. "Coach nominated him. I just got him to agree to it when he was selected." She scowled at Billy. "Why? Would you prefer he sit at home and drink all winter? Go right to San Antonio State and come right home because he doesn't really want it?"

He waited a second before flashing a smile. "Garrity can I tell you something?" She nodded. She supposed so. He leaned in, hissing, almost manic. "I wanted this for Timmy even more than you. He just listens to you more than me." He smiled again, poking a finger into her chest. "I've been using you to do my dirty work for me."

Oh my God. Her mouth dropped. The resentment…jealousy…it wasn't either. It was…she jabbed her fingers into his chest. "You asshole! You could have helped me!"

"You think he would listen? I got him to do that video but I had to yank his arm out to do it. He wanted to do it because it was a video and it'd be a fun way to break up the day!" That was true, she thought. He did like to be on TV, odd for someone who was so private. Tim was an enigma. He laughed. "I'm not jealous of him Lyla. I'm not there because he's gonna' be better for it. All I want is him out of here. More than you. He's got a shot."

He had more than a shot. If he'd wanted it, if he had the motivation, he'd have more than just San Antonio. She smiled briefly. "You should have told me," she said.

"I gave you the letter from Oklahoma."

"And all the others? I found them."

"And you didn't show them to me, did you?" he retorted. He smiled a little, before nodding his head. Good Lord, she thought, shaking hers. "You and me…we're a good team."

She scowled up at him. "No, we're not a good team. You have silly ways of doing this."

"And who is the one that got kicked off the field?"

"I was frustrated with him, I left on my own."

"Sure you did."

She shot him another dark look, before she smiled. It was refreshing to hear. She didn't think Billy…it made sense though. Billy was the closest thing Tim had to a father. He was the one who always made sure Tim wasn't getting involved with their father. Could have done better with the other things. Billy was the one at the games. The one who gave him the state ring. She smiled again. "You need to push him next year Billy," she whispered. She hiccupped. "I can't do this on my own."

He nodded. "I get it."

"I want him to get a degree. If he can do that through football…if he gets even an ounce of self-confidence from this game…he's freaking out inside. Maybe because he doesn't think you support it. Give him just one…one positive thing." She held up her phone, whispering. "I've got to go get the other."

Billy nodded. "Yeah, okay." He smiled again. "We should do this more often. You're not as prissy as everyone thinks."

She smirked. "I'm a bitch, Billy." She shrugged, walking backwards towards her car. "At least I own up to it now." She spun on her heel, climbing into the car a second later and calling Jason. All she got was another message. "It's Lyla. I sent your ticket to you. Please come. You have no idea what this means to him."

When she disconnected, she saw he'd actually called while she was talking to Billy. Stupid phone not even ringing, she scowled, lifting it up to her ear to hear the message. And her heart sunk. _Lyla it's Jason. I know how much you want me there and all but I can't. I just can't go. Work and family…I can't be there for him right now. He'll be fine._

Worst best friend ever, she thought, jamming her fingers into the keys again. She lifted it to her ear. Voicemail again. "You listen to me Jason Street," she snapped, her ire rising in her voice. She was soon screaming into the phone. "I don't care what you have to do right now, but for once in Tim Riggins's life he is going to have everyone drop everything no matter what and be there for him! Who went to Mexico for you on your stupid little thing? Who went to New York for you and made sure you had your family before he left? Who was the one who cheered you up? Okay I know he wasn't there for the whole you broke your neck and were in the hospital, but he was blaming himself for it the entire time and yes, okay he was cheating you with me but that is a long…long time ago now and things are different and he needs you more than anything right now Jason. This is all about you, he wants to be on TV and he has his jersey and he's okay with the fact that Coach actually put him up to it but you need to be there…"

Damnit! It cut her off, the message was too long. It asked if she was satisfied with what she'd managed to rant, so she said okay and threw the phone aside, hanging her head in her hand and looking to the field. Billy had gone out onto the turf. Tim was playing a little better. He needed a bit of an audience. Tim fed off of the energy in a football stadium at game time.

He would be okay. She looked at her hands, sighing. I hope I can get Jason there. I hope Billy will be okay with all this. I hope Tim won't feel too pressured. She looked up at the sky. "Please God," she whispered, closing her eyes. She hadn't prayed in a long time. "Please just let this week go well and give him strength." She sighed again, opening her eyes just in time to see Tim do a flip over a defense guy and get up, walking away from everyone to cool off. She put her car into gear, backing out of the parking space. "Give me strength too while you're at it."


	6. The Venue

**6. The Venue**

"Show me your room," she ordered, barely letting go of Tim as he greeted her at the hotel. It was the Hilton, fancy. There was a large sign broadcasting the welcome of the Under Armour All American Team. She tossed her hair from her eyes, glancing at his shirt, which was a t-shirt with Under Armour on the sleeve, the back of the shoulders, and the logo for the game on the left breast. She tugged at it, grinning stupidly. She was probably the happiest person of all for him. "Swag."

He rolled his eyes, making a face. "You should see all I got."

"I want to see it. Show me."

He closed the door to her car and she passed her keys off to a valet, dragging her bag in behind her. It took a second for the decorum to kick in and Tim took the bag from her. She kissed his cheek. It was like rewarding him for remembering to be polite. "It's a hotel room, I don't see the big deal," he protested, as she grabbed his key card from his back pocket and marched to the elevator. He rolled his eyes again. "Garrity."

"Keep doing that and they'll get stuck in the back of your head."

He seemed to seriously contemplate the ramifications of that. She rolled her eyes. He waved his head from side to side, mocking her in a high voice. "Keep doing that and they'll get stuck in the back of your head!"

"Shut up."

"I should shut up, I want things from you Garrity."

She rolled her eyes again. Maybe they would get stuck. "No nookie before gametime," she said, wagging her finger at him. She also knew he had a curfew and needed to meet it or else risk not playing. "So how is it going?" He'd been evasive on the phone each time she'd asked about the practices.

He shrugged. "Bunch of snobs."

That was it. Not only were many of the All-American players the best of their town, school, and state, they were often scholar-athletes. Incredibly Type A, driven, and focused. There was no way Tim would fit in with them. She followed him to his room, which had a nametag on the side of the door. "Tim Riggins, wait." She pulled out her camera.

"Oh Jesus."

"Don't take his name in vain," she said automatically. She snapped a photo and then one of Tim, sticking his tongue out at her. She pushed by him into the hotel room, jumping up and down at the sight of the large UA duffel bag full of stuff. "Ah! A swag basket! Where is your equipment, do you get to keep it?"

"Yeah. It's at the stadium."

"I want to see, take me after dinner."

"Got a curfew Garrity."

"I don't care." She glanced at the mess that was his side of the room, clothes pouring from the roller suitcase she'd given him and his old black backpack stuffed with junk food and car magazines. There were candy wrappers and beer bottles in the trash. She grabbed the bottles, dumping them into her bag.

"Recycling or something Garrity?"

"I don't want you to get caught with these." He should know better. She wasn't going to risk him with anything. No drinking, no nookie, no nothing. She shot him a dark look. Her voice dropped. "You should know better. You play much better when you're sober and healthy."

He looked away, but she saw him subconsciously rotate his bad shoulder. That was such a nasty hit he'd taken. He was so big and fast most people never got a chance to truly block or tackle him. She walked over, rubbing lightly at the muscle. "That's nice," he mumbled, closing his eyes. He opened one eye, an eyebrow arching, silently questioning.

She dropped her hands. "No," she warned. She looked at the very neat side, all the clothes and the books folded. She nodded towards it. "Who is your roommate?"

"Guy from California." No more info. Uh-oh.

She sighed. "What's wrong with him?"

"I didn't say anything was wrong with him."

"Yes you did, what's wrong with him?"

Tim wrinkled his nose. "He doesn't drink."

"He probably doesn't want to get in trouble."

"He's going to study medicine at Stanford, he has a full athletic scholarship, he's a wide receiver, and he drinks this." Tim marched to the minibar and opened it up, pulling out a protein shake bottle filled with green liquid. Even she had to wrinkle her nose. He made another face. "He wakes up at four every morning to go work out."

"So he's heath-conscious, he's from California." She nodded towards the side of the room again. She was curious about this Anti-Tim. "So what's his name?"

The door opened just then, a rather tall and lanky blond walking into the room. He rolled his sea-green eyes, scowling at Tim. "Seriously? Girls? You're just asking to get kicked out." He looked at her, making a face. "You should go on home sweetie." He had that slow California vowel thing going on. She instantly scowled. He waved his hand to the open door. "Go back to wherever."

She cocked her head, smiling sweetly. Tim immediately crossed his arms over his chest and reached his fingers to touch at his lips, smiling behind them. He was probably recording this for the future. "Hello," she drawled, offering her hand. "I'm Lyla Garrity, from Dillon, not wherever."

The wide receiver seemed put off for a moment before he took her hand, shaking. "Kyle Fuller."

"Nice to meet you Kyle Fuller, I see you're going to Stanford." She picked up the course catalog, flipping through it and sighed. "I considered going there myself, I got selected for early admission, but it was difficult to choose between Stanford and Princeton." She looked up at him for his reaction, smiling slowly, her eyes sparkling. "And then when Vanderbilt and Baylor accepted me, I just had to go with Tennessee, I mean, SEC all the way even if it's the smart kid school, you know?" She dropped the Stanford catalog, arching her eyebrow. "Stanford had too many gimme classes for my taste." It physically pained her to speak about it like she was actually going to Vanderbilt, but he didn't need to know she didn't have any money and the scholarships wouldn't pay for it and she had so much bad credit saddled to her now because of her father that she wouldn't be able to get decent loans.

He studied her for a moment. "What are you majoring in?" he asked, walking over to the dresser and yanking out a drawer, removing a workout tank.

She reached over to Tim, her arm wrapping around his waist. She cocked her head and stuck her tongue out a little in the corner of her mouth, reaching to twist at a lock of hair. "I don't know…baton twirling and how to make the perfect lemon icebox cake I suppose."

A faint flush filled his cheeks. He frowned at her deeper. "Are you messing with me?"

"No," she snapped. She arched an eyebrow. "Where are you from in California?"

"Berkeley."

"My mom lives there. She owns a fig farm."

"Figs?"

"My stepdad is a grape nut," she explained. She looked up at Tim, who was still smiling. She rose on her toes, planting a hard kiss on his lips. When she broke it a second later, she rubbed at her lip gloss, which had transferred to his upper lip. "Baby where do you want to go for dinner tonight?"

"I'm thinking something unhealthy," he drawled.

She looked over at Kyle, letting go of Tim. "What position are you?"

He smiled quickly. "Wide receiver. I was All California. We won the Division II state championship two years in a row."

Impressive, given how large a state California was. But Texas was still larger. "Dillon won last year."

"Division 5A, am I right?"

"Doesn't matter, it's still state," she said. She pursed her lips. "My boyfriend that year broke his neck. He was quarterback. Jason Street, he was going to go to Notre Dame. Now he's a sports agent in New York City." She glanced at Tim. "You have a meeting with him, don't you?"

He frowned. "What?"

She wanted to kick him. Work with me here. "You have a meeting with Jason don't you? The sports agent in New York? Remember him?" She widened her eyes. Come the hell on Tim. You're oblivious but I'm proving a point here.

It clicked. "Oh yeah, Streeter, I've got a meeting with him."

"You're still amateur so you can compete at the college level, but we're working on our options." She rubbed at his shoulder. "Timmy Football we'll call him. Make a brand." She waved at Kyle. "But who knows."

"Sports agent?" Kyle frowned slightly again. He cleared his throat. It looked painful for him to have to ask. "You have his card."

"I don't know, we'll have to see," she said. She walked by him, waving. "It was nice meeting you. Do you have family or friends who came out from California?"

"Yeah, in fact…" he looked over as the door opened, a matching blonde walking into the room. "This is my girlfriend Amelia."

The girl smiled at her. "Hello."

"Remember what the rules say," Tim sang, his arm draped over her shoulder as they walked out. He got a dark look from Kyle and just smiled, leaving the room and walking backwards down the hallway. He whooped and folded his hands together, bowing towards her. "You are the master. I bow to you."

"Get up." She had to smile in spite of herself. "That was a nice play from you," she said, his arm going back around her shoulder. "The whole rules thing going back in his face."

"I swear that guy needs to get laid and all his issues will go away." He wrapped his arms around her and she stood up onto his feet so they were level, saving him from kneeling a bit so they could be at the same eyeline. "So where do you want to go for dinner?"

An idea was forming in her mind. "We could go check out the campus," she said, referring to San Antonio State. It wasn't far, by her MapQuest calculations. She reached into her bag, removing the directions. She waved them in his face, which immediately showed disappointment. "Look, I happen to have the way there right here in my little hands."

They'd already been to campus, but she knew he wasn't thrilled at the idea of going back. They could pick up new course catalogs or something. She wasn't thrilled at going to San Antonio State either, but hell, she didn't care at this point. I get to be with you, she felt like saying to Tim. He let go of her when the elevator dinged, stepping onto it. "I'm thinking Mexican food," he said.

"You do need to eat healthy," she said. She patted his flat stomach. "Gotta keep the beer gut away."

"I get my exercise," he drawled, leaning in to nip at the skin in the back of her ear. His voice was husky, whispering in so she could ear, even when the elevator door opened and a few people got on. "Since my roommate is such a buzzkill, we can go to your room before they tape our doors shut tonight. Ten is the curfew. What do you say Garrity? I'm still working on that move you like."

The last time he'd used the move she'd almost ended up in the hospital, so she wasn't sure that was a good thing two nights before the biggest game of his life. She lifted her face, staring straight at him, as hard as it was for her to have to deny him. "Maybe," slipped from her lips before she knew what she was saying. Damnit!

He grinned. "Gotcha." He stepped out, nodding to the two older ladies in the elevator who had been staring at him. "Ma'ams." She swore one of them fanned herself. He had that way.

God what have I done, she wondered, her hand in his, to get saddled with someone who could flit between every single emotion in the span of a second? She'd never known someone more conflicting than Tim Riggins. She leaned on him, walking out of the hotel and reached in for her sunglasses as Tim removed his from the collar of his shirt. He pushed his on over his nose and took her hand. "So where to," she wondered.

"Riverwalk."

It wasn't far to the Riverwalk, so she followed after him, walking down the sidewalk. She felt her stomach flip, looking up at a billboard for the game. Wow. We're going to really do this. She squeezed his hand tight. "You want to go to the Alamo?"

"Remember that class trip we took there? What was that? Sixth grade?"

"Seventh," she said, suddenly remembering. That was Jason's first year in Dillon. She felt her cheeks flush. "We kissed."

"No we didn't."

"Yes we did," she laughed, lifting her face. They were given free reign at the Alamo during lunch and she'd snuck off to play truth or dare, since they were also bored as hell. She'd been trying to kiss Jason, since she had had a crush on him since he walked into Dillon Junior High, but that damn Brittany Robinson, the little bitch, had dared her to kiss Tim. Not to be forever marked as chicken, she'd walked straight to Tim, kissed him and walked away. That was when she thought she first received Tyra Collette's wrath, as the other girl had been watching the whole thing from her group of friends. Lyla hadn't thought much of it, just that Jason had seen it, and she'd run over later to apologize. That was when he'd said he just wanted to kiss her first.

It had been a bit of a competition between the three of them since, even if she hadn't thought of it again. "How could you forget that?" she asked.

"I was probably drunk."

"It was seventh grade!"

"Well then I don't know, I guess you weren't memorable," he teased. He laughed when she punched his shoulder, cursing him an asshole. He let go of her hand and put his arm around her waist, walking with her towards the Riverwalk. "Tell you what, let's go to the Alamo after this and you can give me a memorable kiss."

"How could you have forgotten," she demanded. She lifted her eyes to his. After all that they'd gone through for the past three years, she'd come to the realization he'd always kind of been in love with her. As oblivious as she was to it. It also wasn't like Tim showed his emotions like that. She quirked her lip. "You've loved me forever."

"Aren't we a narcissist?"

"How do you know that word?"

"I paid attention in English when we learned about the dude." He rolled his eyes, mumbling. "I haven't loved you forever. Just since first grade."

First grade!? She wasn't even in his first grade class. "How did you know me then?"

"I remembered you from the cheerleading camp when I was in Pee Wee. You did a cartwheel and you had pink lace underpants. I was in love with you since then." He smiled quickly when she realized he was again joking, her eyes rolling sideways. I guess I'm never going to get a serious conversation out of you right now. Forget it. He was in his deflecting mood. I know what you're doing, she felt like saying. You're nervous and scared of this game on Sunday.

They walked for a few minutes down the Riverwalk, as she took in various restaurants they could eat at. She sighed a few minutes later. "What about that one?" she asked, suggesting a colorful TexMex place up ahead.

"Sure."

They went in and got a table. She told him about everyone's plans. She hadn't heard from Jason yet. Who the hell knew if he was going to come out, she wasn't sure if it would help Tim or hurt him at this point. Billy would be out with the family tomorrow. Coach and Mrs. Taylor were coming in that night. It was going to be a big deal, they all had a block of seats in the family section.

After dinner they walked around the Riverwalk, the lights all coming on as the sun set behind them. They got a cab and she heard Tim say for the Alamo. A few minutes later they were walking around as the visitor's center closed up for the night. He took her hand, walking towards a spot around the back, near the gift shop entrance. "What are you doing?" she asked, as he walked around to face her.

He took both her hands and leaned in, giving her a soft kiss. A second later, she broke away, smiling slightly. What was that for? It wasn't like Tim to be very romantic. He smiled, looking up at the Alamo. "This is where you kissed me," he said, quiet. He smiled again, whispering and looked down at his feet. "And I've loved you since kindergarten. I came in and sat down and when Mike Avila made fun of me because I had a ripped t-shirt, you told him to shut his face and pay attention to his crayons and paste and then you came over and you gave me your crayons. I've loved you since then." He rolled his eyes. "And then you yelled at me when I punched Mike Avila on the playground at recess and said you'd never speak to me again because I was a bully. I probably fell in love with you a bit more at that point."

I'm sure you did. "Masochist," she whispered, her eyebrow lifting. She wrapped her arm around his neck, kissing him again. They'd known each other that long. She broke away, sighing and touched her forehead to his, giggling. "I love you too." She took a deep breath, tossing her hair out of her eyes. "Since you chased after me on your front lawn." She wasn't sure if that was the exact moment. He'd been annoying her nonstop and she was reaching a point where she was contemplating going to the school or Mrs. Taylor to talk to him and tell him to leave her alone or she'd go a legal route, but…something clicked. He loved her. Tim Riggins loved her and…and she figured that that was it. She'd gotten the money he needed and he hadn't wanted it, but she didn't care and she loved him a bit more, even if she was infuriated at him. What type of complete idiot stole from meth addicts? Only him and Billy.

This seemed to be a culmination of all that, she thought. All their time together. "Let's go back," he said, taking her hand. They walked away, until she spotted a cab and hailed it over.

When they got back to the hotel, she stopped outside of her room. "This is my stop."

"Kay." He kissed her again. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah." She leaned on the open door, closing her eyes. Garrity. Ugh. She knocked her head backwards on the door. "Hey," she called.

Tim turned, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah?"

"You know…" She shrugged, running her tongue over her teeth and tried not to smile. "It's only eight. You still have two hours until your curfew." He was a much better player sober, but he definitely didn't play well when he wasn't relaxed.

He stood, impassive. It took a second. She briefly wondered if he would hold out and go to his room, but she squealed, laughing loudly as he ran at her, giggling and tackled her into the hotel room.


	7. The Game

**7. The Game**

"Lyla honey are you okay?"

She felt sick to her stomach for some reason. She'd never felt this nervous before a football game in her life. I don't know, she thought, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. "I'm fine," she said defensively.

Buddy reached over and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. "You're not warm."

"Daddy I'm not five, you don't need to check my temperature like a baby," she snapped. How embarrassing. She glared at him as he giggled his knee. "Stop it. What's with the fidgeting?"

He shook his head. "No reason. These are good seats baby."

"I made sure we got good ones." She looked up behind her. Tyra was popping her gum. It was annoying. "You mind?"

"No, why am I here? I hate Tim."

Mindy reached for her sister, grabbing her shoulders and shaking rather aggressively, squealing in excitement. "Because Tim is actually doing something good! For once! We have to be here to make sure it's not a dream and the world won't end."

Yes exactly, for once Lyla agreed with Mindy. "I don't see why we couldn't have signs," Billy complained. She'd made sure everyone had worn blue and yellow Panthers colors, to represent. Signs were not an option. Tim would be nervous enough, he didn't need a personal cheer section like that.

"I told you, no signs," she said, sitting on her fingers.

Tami leaned over and gave her a bottle of water. "Take this. Just drink."

Matty leaned over her shoulder this time, speaking into her other ear. "So he needs to make sure he's running those screen passes close enough to the QB, he tends to get too far away. I had to basically hurl the ball at him to make sure he couch catch it."

I know, he has some weird quirks. "Did you tell him that?"

"I did, he told me to go do something to my mother that I would…I would not do."

She chuckled. He was probably in the locker room now, freaking out. I wish I could be there. She nibbled her lower lip, taking the bottle of water. She fiddled with the cap and looked at the program. Coach was sitting beside her and Buddy on the other side. Eric tapped the writeup for Tim. "That sounds like you."

"Yes, well Tim said he wanted to just tell them he liked Texas, beer, and ladies, so that wasn't an option." She looked at the write-up, accompanying his photo which she'd taken from the Dillon High School Football programs. _Tim Riggins is a senior dual threat running and passing halfback from Dillon, Texas and attends Dillon High School, where he started all four years for a total of thirty-eight regular season games. Riggins was a member of the 2005 Division 5A Texas State High School Football Championship Team. Riggins plans to attend San Antonio State where he will major in physical education with plans of becoming a high school teacher and coach football. _

All his major stats and accomplishments, including the two years he was Most Valuable Player by the Texas High School Athletic Association were also included. Eric chuckled. "Plans of becoming a high school teacher?"

"Well I had to BS something."

He patted her shoulder. "He's lucky to have you Lyla."

Yeah, well he can't have me forever, she thought idly, looking at her phone, sitting in her knees. It was still silent. No word from Jason. She hadn't thought much of this. They were going to go to San Antonio State together, probably get an apartment together…SAS didn't have a strict policy regarding freshmen requirements of living in dorms. She wasn't sure what the future held from there. Marry her high school boyfriend and start popping babies was her original plan, but there was also an NFL paycheck associated with that scenario. Tim had no interest in going pro and while he was good, he probably could barely make a practice squad with his attitude. If he truly wanted it, if he truly went for it, she was sure he could at least get a lower round or be an undrafted rookie. Even so, that wasn't in the cards and she wasn't an idiot about it. It was big enough he'd gotten this far.

This is his shot, she thought, staring straight up across the field at the press box. "This is it," she murmured. The scouts that were hanging around up there would find out today if Tim Riggins was really someone who shouldn't be at San Antonio State but somewhere like TMU or Texas or Oklahoma. I wish Jason were here to see it. She looked at Coach. "Have you spoken to Jason recently?"

"Uh, I think so, last week sometime, yeah. He seems like New York is really fitting to him."

Too well, he's forgetting his best friend. She propped her head on her hand, looking at the field. It's about damn time, she thought, standing up when they finally announced the national anthem. Once that was done, she began to jump a little in place, her camera ready as they called out the East team. Tim was on the West. She bit her lip, screaming at the top of her lungs once they broke through the banner, running to the sidelines. "There he is!" Mindy screeched, as the very noticeable 33 took a place on the sideline.

"Tim!" Julie screamed, waving.

It was no use, Lyla thought. He was in his head right now, doing whatever he mentally did to prepare to play football. She took as many pictures as she could, but she didn't want to get too caught up in taking pictures and miss the game. She sat back down, right on the edge, biting her lip hard. He could hear them, they were close enough, she thought. "Tim!" she finally bellowed.

It took a second, but after Tami whistled and yelled his name. "Timothy Riggins!" That was when he whipped around. He had his helmet off and waved at them, but he didn't smile. Yeah, he was in his zone, she thought, waving back. I love you, she wanted to shout, but she didn't want to get too caught up. There was plenty of time for that.

Oh my gosh, she thought, laughing. She sank into her seat. It was all here, all happening. Oh my gosh. She leaned forward, clapping her hands, which were clad in fingerless gloves, the same blue that matched her hat. The coin toss was in favor of the West, who chose offense. "We get to see him right off the bat," Buddy announced, even though it didn't need announcing.

"Pretty tall wide receiver there, look at those arms," Eric said. Buddy agreed.

"That's his roommate," she said.

Tyra snorted. "That guy, says here he's a smarty-pants. What's Tim doing with that? Driving him crazy?"

"Yes." She didn't want to talk right now, she was too focused on the game, which started with a kick return. The West went out on offense. The quarterback, according to the program and Tim, was insane. Incredibly good. He was going to be a redshirt freshman at Alabama, but many already pegged him for good things, Tim said. She could see it almost immediately. He was very fluid. Reminded her of Jason. "Pass it," she mumbled, when he began to take pressure. She jumped to her feet when he did a short toss to Tim, who took it and ran for about forty before he got knocked down. "Whoo!" she cheered, clapping her hands and laughing. He was already a start, the announcer calling the play. Riggins for forty.

"He's so fast," Matt said behind her. "I still get a kick out of that because he's so slow all the other times."

Julie laughed. "Took him about twenty minutes to get to biology class one day. Told the teacher is was because there was traffic in the hallway and he was just being careful."

"He's focused when he wants to be," she mumbled. She looked at her phone again. Nothing from Jason. Damnit. She looked over at Tim, who went back out after an interception on East. Oh no, she immediately thought, when he screwed up a bit on a play, almost losing the ball in a fumble.

Even Eric saw it, his voice firm. "Tim Riggins does not fumble."

He had a record of never dropping a pass his entire time at Dillon, so she agreed. Tami, the voice of reason, spoke up. "He's jittery. It's perfectly normal. This is on national television."

"Tim Riggins does not fumble," Buddy repeated, like a mantra.

He's losing the momentum, she thought, when he got sacked. She watched him stand, reaching under his pads for his shoulder. "Oh no," she said out loud, getting up and moving down the steps towards the barrier, the closest she could get. "Tim!" He ignored her, a trainer walking towards him. "Tim!" He turned his head, but she couldn't see his face underneath his helmet. It didn't matter. She wasn't sure what she'd say. So she yelled. "Focus damnit!" That wasn't going to help but it made her feel better.

The trainer declared him okay and he sat out one of the plays. That didn't ever happen either. This wasn't good, come on, she almost begged. It went on like that throughout the second quarter. Flashes of brilliance in the plays and then he'd do something dumb or he'd feign the injury on his shoulder. He was faking, she realized, when he flinched too late after a play. Eric noticed it too. "Why is he doing that?" he said.

"Beats me," she grumbled. Shit. She looked up when the announcer called the half. There would be a pretty big halftime show but it didn't matter. West was winning, but Tim was losing. She rubbed at her temple. There was no way she could get to him to give him a pep talk. He needed something else.

He really needed Jason. She was sure that was it. She picked up her phone again. "You know if he's not here already, he probably won't be," Tyra said softly, standing behind her near one of the concession stands. She shrugged. "Billy told me this morning they were holding out for Jason to show up. He's got a life Lyla, he can't come out to Texas whenever Tim needs him."

She snapped at Tyra. "Tim gave up a lot to let Jason go and he has always been there for him." Ironically except when he needed him most. She could see that knowing look in Tyra's eyes. "The accident notwithstanding of course."

"Of course," she echoed.

Lyla didn't want to fight with Tyra now. She didn't have the energy for Collette mindgames. "Tyra just forget it, okay? You don't even want to be here, alright? I know Jason and I know Tim, pretty damn well in fact." That one she knew hurt Tyra, who seemed to draw back. "He needs his best friend for this. Nothing else but this, okay?"

Tyra squinted. "Okay," she said, quiet. She waited a second and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm here for him, Lyla. I'm here too, okay?"

I get it, she wanted to say, but she didn't. She cleared her throat, shooting right back. "I thought you hated him."

She rolled her eyes. "I love to hate him, but I don't really hate him." She smiled again. "He's going to be my brother-in-law. I have to deal with him. In any case, I'm glad he's here." Tyra laughed. "What the hell did you do to get him here?"

"He got here himself." She pulled away from Tyra and stormed back to the seats, sitting down hard and scowling. She was glad Tyra was supportive of Tim, more people really needed to be, but she was still pissed about the thing with Jason.

Tami moved over to Eric's empty seat. "You okay sweetheart?"

"Men are stupid."

"They are, but that's why they have us to guide them," she teased. She rubbed at her shoulder. "It's okay sweetie. Tim will regroup."

It wasn't really Tim she was talking about. She looked at her phone. Again. Nothing. I'm going to lose my mind. She looked back out at the field as the game started back up again. Tim was going back out. He seemed…springier. She squinted, leaning forward and watching as he got the ball and promptly faked before…she screamed, throwing her arms in the air as he took off like a bat out of hell, zigzagging through defensive ends down the field for a sixty-yard touchdown. "Oh my God!" she screamed. What the hell was that!?

Julie saw it before she did. "Look! On the field!"

Lyla followed Julie's pointing finger to the end of the West's sideline, where there was a familiar figure sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a Riggins Panther jersey. She let out a high-pitched scream, unable to stop shaking. He was here! He was here, he was here! She ran down to the barricade, cupped her hands over her mouth, and screamed his name.

Jason looked to her and smiled, lifting his hand. He turned away and focused on the team again. She didn't want to know how he managed to get down to the field, but she also didn't care. He was here, she thought, laughing and spun in a circle, looking back at Tim. He didn't see him.

It took a moment; how can I get him to see Jason, she thought. Seeing him would…she was sure it would boost something, but…she bit her lip and clapped again, watching the game continue. It didn't really matter, she supposed, about halfway through the third quarter. She saw Tim glance at Jason at some point but show no reaction. Jason didn't move. He just sat and watched, while Tim just played, and she watched from afar.

It was supposed to be Jason, he'd said to her. She blinked back tears, cheering until her throat was raw when he scored a crucial touchdown. At least it was one of them, she thought to herself, grinning.


	8. The Future

**8. The Future**

"So do you get to keep the jersey?"

Tim glanced sideways, stretched out almost flat on the ground in a low slung lawn chair, before he rested his head back on his shoulder, looking into the fire. "Yeah," he drawled, tilting it aside again, looking over at her. "You okay?"

She sniffled; she'd picked up a cold from being outside screaming loudly in the cold air at the football game. It'd kind of knocked her on her ass. "Fine," she said, wrapping her flannel blanket tighter around her, looking into the fire. It was kind of mesmerizing, watching the flames dance around. Her eyes kind of widened, staring into it, like she could see things.

"I think Garrity's getting high or something there."

"It's a little terrifying."

What? She shook her head a little, clearing her mind and looked up. Jason and Tim were staring at her, bemused expressions twisted on their faces. She rolled her eyes. They'd formed a bit of a triangle. She didn't like to get too affectionate with Tim when Jason was around; she knew Tim avoided it as well. Earlier when she'd arrived at the lake, she'd gone to kiss him and he'd turned his head, because Jason had been watching. She moved a little closer to Tim, shivering despite the fire and the blanket. "Get over here," he ordered.

"No."

"Garrity you're freezing."

It was freezing, she felt like protesting. She glanced at Jason, who simply shrugged. He shifted in his chair when she moved over to Tim, sitting beside him. Tim took a look at Jason, who nodded slightly and then he hauled her off the cold, hard dirt and into his lap. "You guys are funny," Jason murmured. He snorted. "I'm fine with it. I have a baby, I'll have you know."

Neither of them said anything. She cleared her thought obviously, not just to change the subject from their past history but also to get rid of the scratch. Her voice was still a little hoarse. "So I think we can safely say Tim has scratched something off the bucket list."

"That list is pretty short," Tim said. He was probably telling the truth. He looked around at the lake and towards the other side, which stretched out to a rolling hillside. There was a ranch over there, she remembered They had horses. She liked horses. He slumped further into the chair, getting farther to the ground, his heel scraping the dirt as it moved further out. "This place would be nice to live on," he breathed, almost to himself.

She wondered if he knew he'd spoken out loud. "You're going to college," she said.

"What are you going to study Tim? The physics of keg stands?"

"I can't do keg stands, too tall." He said it with such authority she wondered if he'd tried one in awhile. He poked her ribs. "Garrity can keg stand."

"I did that once and I was drunk."

"That's kind of the point," Jason said. He laughed, shaking his head and sighing. "I never saw the point of it, guess I never will."

Tim immediately whipped his head around. "I will hold you up," he said, so seriously. Tim took drinking seriously.

She poked him as Jason let out a burst of laughter, unable to control himself. "You asshole." She moved deeper against him, sniffling again and rolled her eyes. "You're going to college not to major in recreational drinking. Maybe something with coaching, like I said in your program."

"I could join Kyle at Stanford and go into some engineering shit."

"You could go pro," Jason suggested. He tilted his beer bottle towards him. "You've got an in now."

Tim didn't say anything. She sighed; Tim was never going to do anything but this, she thought in the back of her mind. She should just accept it, but…he's going to college, she thought again to herself, almost screaming. A mantra. "We'll see," he simply said.

"What do you want to do? I mean, you still need to build us that hunting ranch," Jason said.

I thought that dream died with your legs, she thought. She didn't say it, lifting her head up and holding her beer a little tighter in her hand, watching the firelight flicker over Tim's face. He was the one who played in a State game. He was the one who got to go All-American and now he was the one who was going to play college football, even if it was for a Division III school. He turned his head a little, away from her and looked back at the fire. What's going through your mind, she wondered. You're the one who could do this, you could be what Jason was supposed to be for us. "What were we going to do," she whispered, glancing at Jason. Her lip twitched up. "You and I would get married and you'd go pro. We'd let Tim live in the apartment over our garage."

"Be his first call every time he got arrested."

"Naw," Tim said, leaning forward and tossing his empty bottle into the cooler, selecting another. He cracked the cap expertly, grinning and lifted the bottle to Jason. "I'm too smart to arrested."

"You sure about that?"

"Never break the law knowingly," he said, matter-of-fact.

Jason snorted. "I don't think breaking the law is conditional."

She grinned, peering up at Tim. "So what was it then? Build a hunting ranch you'll keep stocked with beer and ladies, you still planning on that with all your seventh-round draft pick earnings?"

"Well just the beer, the ladies part is a little…inappropriate right now given the current circumstances," Tim said, kissing her forehead. He smiled at Jason. "How's Red?"

Yeah, how was Erin, she wanted to know, turning to Jason. He grinned. "She's great. I have an apartment in her hometown, she's still with her parents. We're working it all out. We're going to get married and Noah will have a real family."

Jason had a kid, she still couldn't really believe that. So much had changed. She pulled her blanket tighter over her shoulders. "Can I keep your jersey?" she asked, looking up at Tim. He had two.

He shrugged. "Sure. I still want the one, never know when you might need it."

"You going to help out Coach Taylor at East Dillon when you're home on breaks?" Jason clicked his tongue. She had to agree. HE shook his head, disgusted. "He got so screwed."

"Fuck the Boosters," Tim said.

"Don't let my dad hear you say that."

"Well not him, I still have to stay on his good side."

She snorted. Whatever. She'd reached a point with her father where he would forever be walking on thin ice until he could learn how to freeze it himself and not wait for someone else. "I don't think it was the Boosters so much as fucking Joe McCoy." Coach Taylor got so screwed on that, all because my dad and the Boosters fell for that crap. And he lost us State, she felt like screaming at them.

Jason whistled and Tim giggled. "I love when she swears," Jason said, pointing his beer towards her. "It's the best sound ever. It's like Hello Kitty cursing."

She laughed. "I am not Hello Kitty."

"So our hunting ranch," Tim said. He tapped her shoulder. "We'll keep it stocked with beer of course."

"A big wraparound porch."

"And Tim's All-American jersey on the wall," she supplied. She was still so proud of him for all that.

"And horses," Tim whispered. He seemed so wistful, thinking about it. He lifted the beer to his lips, his forehead furrowing slightly. She exchanged a look with Jason. This was the most serious he'd ever been about something. She shrugged at Jason's questioning look. Tim was their best friend, but it didn't mean they knew everything. Tim shook his head slightly, like his vision was disappearing. He cleared his throat and went silly again. "And ten kids."

She coughed. "Ten?"

"Ten."

"Are these mine or yours or a combination?" Jason asked.

"And am I the mother?" she almost screeched.

"Well I'll need a brood for my football team, at least ten if I want them all on defense."

"Oh my God, do you know what that would do to my body?" she said. That was the magic word.

He waited a second and then shrugged. "Then we'll adopt. Or we'll use Billy's kids."

The idea of Billy and Mindy having children sent a shiver down her back. Or it was the chills from what she was sure was a fever. She rested her head back on his shoulder, glancing into the flames again. This had been a long last month. Had it really been a month? She lifted her beer bottle up. "To Tim, the All-American."

"To Tim," Jason said, clinking his bottle to her.

Tim said nothing, but she felt him tense beneath her. He hated being the center of attention unless he was the one putting himself in the center. "To Six," he said, changing it. He grinned suddenly. "And Texas Forever."

"Texas Forever," they all chimed, clinking the bottles together.

Lyla leaned back, closing her eyes as the wind kicked up, spinning the dust and frost around them, the fire sparking upwards. She smiled. The future was looking pretty good, college and a hunting ranch and hopefully, she thought, opening her eyes to look at both Tim and Jason, who were discussing the stats from the game. She sighed, continuing to smile. Hopefully the three of them would still be able to do this in a few more years, no matter what the future held.


End file.
